


Late night kiss

by morporkian_hobbit



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Short Drabble, jim needs attention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 11:57:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21054026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morporkian_hobbit/pseuds/morporkian_hobbit
Summary: The clicking of the door handle and the light squeaking of the hinges almost made Sebastian jump. They were nearly inaudible, yet in the late evening’s silence they were unmissable to the veteran’s perfectly trained ears.“Jim.”





	Late night kiss

**Author's Note:**

> A short story with no context that I typed al in one go after watching a kissing scene from "Halt and catch fire".

The clicking of the door handle and the light squeaking of the hinges almost made Sebastian jump. They were nearly inaudible, yet in the late evening’s silence they were unmissable to the veteran’s perfectly trained ears.

“Jim.”

He refrained from turning around. He could recognize those footsteps anywhere. What did the boss want with him at that time of night? If he was here to scold Sebastian about the already half-empty glass of scotch resting on the desk before him, he was wasting his time. Sebastian couldn’t give less of a shit about what people thought of his drinking habits, even when “people” was his boss as well as his mad, unrequited crush.

The footsteps were slowly making their way through the study. Jim’s small silhouette appeared in the corner of Sebastian’s vision, unhurried and perfectly composed. He was wearing one of his sharp suits, as always, but the collar was unbuttoned and the necktie had been abandoned somewhere earlier in the evening. He wasn’t saying anything, and Sebastian was too intrigued to break the silence himself.

He did not flinch when light fingers touched the back of his hand, nor when a warm palm enveloped it and slowly moved it away from the glass. He did, though, flinch a little when Jim’s hand made its way up his arm, creasing his shirtsleeve, up to his shoulder. This was not something Jim Moriarty did. Had the boss been drinking too? Sebastian held perfectly still, holding his breath, all his instincts on high alert. The only movement he allowed himself was to let his gaze follow Jim’s movements along his skin. He could feel his slow breath on his neck, see his dark eyes half-hidden by heavy eyelids. Jim’s expression was unreadable, and his actions, though unusual, weren’t any clearer. Sebastian would be damned if he understood anything to his boss’s motives, but he wasn’t about to stop him, not if things were going the way they seemed to be going.

Jim’s grip on his shoulder suddenly became firmer, and Sebastian took a sharp breath as Jim forced him to turn around. The hand had moved from his shoulder to his neck and was now squeezing – not enough to hurt him, but a gentle reminder that it could do much worse. The sharp edge of the desk was cutting into Sebastian’s back, but he didn’t notice it. He was too captivated by the heat of Jim’s body so close to his, by the soft burning fingers wrapped around his neck, tilting his chin upwards, by the impossibly dark eyes staring into his. Every muscle in his body was tense, focused on one thing and one thing only: Don’t. Move. Don’t break free or push him away. Under _any _circumstance. All his survival instincts were pitted up against years of military training. The alcohol in his veins and the rarefied oxygen weren’t helping, and Sebastian’s heart nearly missed a beat when Jim suddenly plunged forward and planted his lips on the sniper’s.

The moment was over as soon as it had begun, and only the phantom of a kiss lingered on Sebastian’s lips as Jim drew away. His eyes had turned from impenetrable to intrigued and slightly amused as he studied his sniper’s face. Sebastian didn’t know how much the glint in his eyes betrayed the fire that was going on in his head – and in the rest of his body – but what Jim saw must have pleased him, because he smiled, and suddenly his lips were there again, pressing against Sebastian’s mouth, slightly biting at it, tongue forcing its way in. Sebastian let him. The study room was spiralling around him, his vision was obscured by heavily closed eyelids and all his senses were concentrated on Jim. His hands abandoned the edge of the desk on their own accord to grab Jim’s face, not to push him away but to pull him closer. They stumbled through the messy room, holding on to each other, Jim’s hand still tightened around Sebastian’s neck. The kiss was messy and violent, a strange ballet of impulses and desires, and Sebastian wouldn’t have had it any other way - and he knew that neither would Jim. In between the waves of pleasure and adrenaline, he had to focus every shred of still functional brain he had left to fight the urge to pin Jim against a wall and tear his clothes off right there and then. Don’t take control. Don’t take the lead. As much as he wanted to – no, needed to -, if he stole the power away from him he knew Jim would never forgive him. Sebastian’s hands cupping his face might already be a step too far, although Jim hadn’t done anything about it yet. Sebastian lowered them to Jim’s shoulders while he still could, before tumbling through the room again under the pressure of Jim’s hands and lips.

Sebastian’s back suddenly hit something hard, and a crashing sound was heard as a whole set of chess pieces flew off the table and scattered across the floor. Cold air suddenly replaced Jim’s warmth against Sebastian’s body, and he forced his eyes open. Jim was standing above him, a sly smirk twisting his lips, black eyes riveted into Sebastian’s blue. The sniper couldn’t hold back a victorious grin as Jim thrust his hips against his and started peeling off his jacket. Sebastian didn’t know what his boss had had, or if he had drank at all, but he surely wouldn’t complain if he did again.


End file.
